


When You're Not The Hero

by kingLATRANS



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Gen, confusion is a major theme, sterek if you want to squint maybe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-24
Updated: 2014-01-24
Packaged: 2018-01-09 19:42:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1150028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingLATRANS/pseuds/kingLATRANS
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Yes sir, what can I do for you?" Her voice was chipper and something about it was artificial.</p><p>"How long have I been here?"</p><p>"Almost a month. You're going to have a lot of school work to make up."</p><p>"A-a month?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	When You're Not The Hero

**Author's Note:**

> Finished this last night. I was inspired by a tumblr post from Colethewolf.  
> http://colethewolf.tumblr.com/post/74036701586/colethewolf-i-dont-know-if-somebody-has  
> I don't know how to work links here, so there you go.
> 
> Anyways, ambiguous/open ending. Not for certain whether... well you know.  
> But it's open ended. No definite outcome.  
> Like Schrödinger's cat.

Stiles woke with a sputter. Or a gurgle, more accurately. There were tubes down his throat and nose and he's freaking out. Nurses rush in and apparently he's in the hospital. They're all talking at once. He's gonna have a heart attack or something, going by the EKG. It's not long until he passes out.

 

When he finally comes to his dad is sitting next to him. He blinks slowly for a couple minutes before nudging his father. The sheriff jumps viciously with a face as white as ash. It takes a couple more minutes until he's being crushed in tired, taut arms.

 

"What-"

 

"You're okay, everything is okay."

 

"Dad. What happened." His father... just stared at him. He shook his head, "Dad."

 

"You ran your car into a pole. Dead center- what were you trying to do? Kill me?" He was stunned into silence. The jeep. He was driving? He can't... He was driving home. From. From Scott's? No. Scott was there but he can't remember where.

 

"Home," Stiles' voice cracked a bit, "I was going home."

 

The sheriff... he looked broken. Totally wrecked and over his head with something. They stayed in silence for a long time after that. His dad asking if he remembered anything about the accident, Stiles nodding or shaking his head, though most included the latter.

 

Some hours later when his father had to return to work he managed to get a nurse's attention. She was nice looking. Blonde hair and hazel eyes. Almost genuine.

 

"Yes sir, what can I do for you?" Her voice was chipper and something about it was artificial.

 

"How long have I been here?"

 

"Almost a month. You're going to have a lot of school work to make up."

 

"A-a month?" It was stammered and so was his brain. He- a month? That's a while. Four weeks, 30 days. A while. It's- "Do you know what happened? Be-besides that my car met a pole."

 

"Some of the paramedics who responded to the call said you were muttering something about wolves. Said you saw something. They're chalking it up to it being really late and you being super tired. Gotta say though, you freaked 'em out pretty good. 'Specially since you weren't on anything." They were quiet for a bit while she checked the machine he was hooked up to and he thought.

 

"When do I get out?"

 

"Doctor wants to look atcha for a bit tomorrow, but all of everything looks right as rain. So I think you should be good to go in maybe... two days? I can see if I can talk to anybody for earlier or later, though, if you'd like." He managed a nod before she continued. "Was really weird though. You were out of it real bad, but beyond that and some bruises you were fine. Then you just... went to sleep and didn't wake up. Coma and all that. Then you just wake up outta nowhere and everything is one hundred percent peachy keen. Everything."

 

"Sooner would be better." She nodded back at him, smile wide and bland. He let out a breath after she finished in the room.

 

He was with Scott. Scott and Allison. Sharp face. Isaac? Yeah, he was there too. And a white coat. Smooth voice. He closed his eyes, fingertips pressing into his forehead. What else. Deeper, deeper. "Saw something," as in hallucinating? Seeing things and wolves. Werewolves? Who then? Wolf. Actual wolf. It was an actual wolf but not. Blue eyes, so... Peter? Him or Derek, but he hasn't seen them since... well since. Fuck.

 

Scott though. Where's Scott. Where- Scott. He needed to sleep.

 

The nurse is good on her word apparently when, the day after his doctor pokes at him a bunch, Mrs.McCall comes in at a brisk walk saying he's okay and he can be discharged right then. Her smile is tight and she seems really uncomfortable and exhausted.

 

"Where's Scott?" He should've known, just by the drop of her smile at 'where'. Her hollowed eyes skim across the floor before she speaks practically air.

 

"We- I don't know." They were still. "It was- it was two weeks ago. Two weeks after you... It's-" She choked on a sob and he was just angry he couldn't move towards her.

 

"I'm sorry, I'll- I'll do something." He croaked and Mrs.McCall looked almost pleadingly to him shaking her head biting her lip. The tears running down her face like hot glass.

 

"Just, here. You were wearing these that night. It's all we have." She sat neatly folded clothing on his knees. The thin blanket muffled the feeling of them mostly. He looked down and yeah, he was still wearing the gown. He's not sure what else he expected. He nodded to her before she left, gently chasing the tears away with her fingers.

 

He was alone for maybe twenty minutes. When he finally dressed he looked at himself in the bathroom's mirror. He looked fine. Just like the nurse said. His eyes looked lighter than he remembered. He got a flash of them in the review mirror, dark, and then blue eyes reflecting headlights. Wolf. It was a wolf. Derek left around October. He hasn't actually asked the date but it's a new year from what he saw on documents. It'd been months anyway so he can't rule him out. And Scott is missing. For two weeks. He just needs to get out. Find someone who knows things. Deaton might. That's where he was. With Scott, Allison and Isaac. Deaton.

 

His father wouldn't let him leave the house for the rest of the day for reasons pertaining to assuring health and all that bullshit. He tried to take the day off from work, but Stiles managed to push him out with asking about Scott. His father's face did the same as Mrs.McCall's and he finally acquiesced.

 

When he was sure his dad was out of the neighborhood Stiles got out. Still dressed from the hospital. That fucking white shirt, blue neck and sleeves, and the khakis. There's a single brown drop of blood on the thigh of them now. The walk was long and silent and he was full to the brim. Everything felt on edge and drowned.

 

When he finally managed to get to the vet it was about noon, maybe ten o'clock. The bell chimed as the door made its sluggish pace back to the wall. Deaton's voice lulled from behind the small gate in the room beyond.

 

"One moment, please." And he did. He waited just in front of the entrance, wringing his fingers. He felt odd in his own skin. Odd. And he can't remember what they talked about.

"Mr.Stilinski." His head immediately jumped to see Deaton looking shocked. Well, that's a little extreme. Mildly surprised would be best.

 

"Hi, um. Where's Scott?" The man was sad. Not like his father or Melissa, but... The word 'Unfortunate' fit his expression.

 

It was nearly an hour later and Stiles had been filled in about what the four- five of them were discussing and it came back like a flood after he first sorted out. Nobody knew where Scott was, and Allison was taken by her father a week into Stiles' coma. Isaac... isn't around either. It took some prying and talking about the wolf for Deaton to admit that Derek had come back about two weeks ago and that Peter hasn't been seen in person for awhile. Stiles nodded his thanks, feeling kind of hollow. After a minute or two he nodded again and left. He saw Deaton's worried frown from the corner of his eyes.

 

Stiles walked aimlessly. Thinking. Just because Deaton only saw Derek two weeks ago didn't mean Derek couldn't have been around before that. But then Peter. He could be plotting in the dark. He's sure Deaton hasn't told him everything and what he worked around Stiles knew he'd hold onto like a dead man. Scott was missing. Allison was taken by her dad, places unknown. Isaac is... not here. Stiles doesn't even like Isaac. Not much anyway. They've had their fair share of hating Ethan and Aiden. That and caring about Scott. That's it and Stiles doesn't give a shit beyond that.

 

He realizes he's wandered into the preserve by then. He was about to turn around and go back home, but something was off. Like, important. Something heavy. So he keeps going. Going and going. And then. The Hale house is standing in front of him. The roof like more of it's collapsed inward. So he, Scott, Allison, Isaac, and Deaton were discussing the sacrifice to the Nemeton. How to fix it, or at least close their doors completely. He had started to drive home, an old road with part of the preserve to his left when a wolf, it had run out onto the road. Right in front of him and he smashed into an electric pole seconds after seeing the blue. It was blurry and barely there after that. He continued walking towards the house.

 

The inside was just like he remembered. There were some new scuff marks littering the floor, but other than that exactly the same. He looked around a bit. Ivy was... more. More dust. There's... There's scratches along some walls. That's new. And the floor, going down the hall beyond the staircase. Those walls, too. Some blood. Dried; not new but not old. The door they lead to, black and cold. Scorched and hollow. The knob turned like rust. It grated until it clicked with great weight. It swung open with a lacking grace, showing with pride, though, was a staircase. Thin, for a single person at a time. And dark. Deep and dark. Deeper. Deep.

 

The room at the bottom was empty. It was dark and empty. The only light was the occasional window from rooms with sliding metal doors lining the hall. At the end, though, that was closed. So he opened it. He opened it to more darkness and easy breathing.

 

"Scott?"

 

By the time he got Scott awake and mobile, unlatched from fucking shackles, onto the porch of the Hale house, Stiles had a thousand thoughts going through his head. Derek came back around the same time Scott went missing. That could also mean a thousand things.

 

"So, Derek. He did... this?" Stiles was really hoping not. He kind of liked the guy. He always meant well. Even when he was a massive prick. But Scott nodded. Simple as that. Looking thankful for the sunlight at least.

 

"He helped me." After a moment Scott fixed him with eyes that said what his mother's did. The pleading that seemed to overtake everyone was making him feel empty like that room at the end of the steps. "Stiles, after you were in the hospital things got bad. Allison totally lost it. Her dad took her somewhere in the mountains- I don't- I couldn't control myself- the wolf, I couldn't control it anymore. I texted Derek a lot, asking for help. He didn't answer for a while. I tried to tell you everything. Derek sort of blamed himself for not being around, I think. It took seeing you hooked up to the heart monitor with tubes in you, too I think. I guess... You were right, I think. When we fought a couple months ago, that I used him and he was bound to be cautious. Even after everything just after the summer, I think you were right." Scott looked how Stiles felt. Kind of lost in a fog and slightly confused.

 

"Where is he now. And, Deaton said Isaac was gone too."

 

"I, I don't know. Last time I saw Derek? Couple days ago. Brought me food. Isaac... I, don't know. I've been in there for a while." Stiles nodded. There was a lot of that in place of words, lately.

 

"Your mom-"

 

"I know."

 

"Yeah,"

 

"But there's something that I... Something here."

 

"Yeah."

 

Scott stood, Stiles easily following. They went through the trees, picking their way silently across leaves and twigs. Stiles steps yielding noise here and there.

 

"You seem okay though. In control and all that entails." He spoke maybe fifteen minutes in.

 

"Yeah. Yeah I do- I mean, I feel in control. Even better than before, actually." Scott looked at his hand, pace laxing some. He looked up over to Stiles, curious and bright.

"You too. You're not seeing anything, like dreams and stuff, right? You can read?"

 

"I- Yeah. I can read. And well, I've been in a coma, Scott. All I can remember is... I. Like. Flashbacks. The beginning, when it really started. Some things were weird, though. It was, I was. Like dreams of dreams or just, things jumbled and mixed into a single day.  Like Malia- her thing. It took us almost weeks to get that finished, but in the dreams it happened in three days or something. Like it smushed the stuff that mattered into- it compiled everything. And some of it wasn't even about me. Some of the stuff we did didn't even come up but some was referenced and mixed in there too. It was- all of it was weird."

 

"So, was it all like the nightmares?" Their foot falls were soft, trees and leaves spreading apart and grass becoming more.

 

"No, not all of it. Actually some of it was a little funny. But. Not all of it. You know?"

 

"Yeah. Yeah i know."

 

Stiles doesn't know how long it was, but a while later Scott started to walk faster and faster until both were running. It was obvious Scott was trying not to lose Stiles, but his friend seemed frenetic. He was just behind Scott, memory telling him to be guarded. And he should've known from that, the only place that feels like a trap now. Like a place that's malicious and sleazy.

 

They slowed to stilted steps. The Nemeton coming into view, charred and thin looking. Over that was smothered in blood. A lot of blood. Like, a really gross and nasty amount of blood. It's really gross. Really nasty.

 

"Scott-"

 

"It's Derek-"

 

"Derek's blood?"

 

"No. I mean- I don't know, maybe. He was here though. Him, Isaac. Peter, too." The words were a shock to him. And, going by Scott's face, it was to him as well. He'd insist it couldn't be right, but Scott has an insane sense of smell. Scott knows people by scent and all that. If he says it's them then it's them.

 

"So blood doesn't- you can't... distinguish whose blood it is?" He was curious enough, and both were eyeing the burnt stump like it was a pit of cobras. They paced circles around it, languid in speed but stiff in posture, crossing then continuing around.

 

"Not really. I can almost taste the difference between types, but the only smell that sticks with it is from contact with skin or saliva, urine or sometimes sweat." Scott stopped so Stiles did the same. Both casting their eyes upward. The underneath of the leaves was dull. Almost a drowned color. It bordered an opening to the sky, still blue but slightly darker. Deeper. "There's too much here. I can smell too much of them. There was... anger. A lot of anger. Frustration, desperation, anger. I can... I can kind of feel it. Almost. You know?"

 

"Sort of. I get the idea, yeah." Stiles squinted back at the Nemeton. Should they still call it that? Since it's pretty much dead? Is it just any tree now? No power? It looks like a sacrifice, more traditional, but he- he didn't wanna think about that. "Where are they?"

 

"I don't know. I just... I don't know, Stiles. I don't know."

**Author's Note:**

> If there's anything that you think is conflicting with itself, please let me know.  
> As well as typos, tagging, rating, etc... Basically any general mistakes.  
> Thank you.


End file.
